The Prodigal Son of Anarchy Returns
by Radical618
Summary: Luke Danes has a family history with the infamous Sons of Anarchy, and he can no longer ignore wanting to fill the shoes of his father. He and his wife, Lorelai, settle down in the small town of Charming, when SAMCRO approaches him and he is finally given the chance to bring the Danes name back to the Sons. Rated M for mature themes, language, and violence.


His midlife crisis was supposed to be the years spent bonding with his daughter, throwing outrageous parties, going on boating trips, chaperoning school trips. Those activities were not nearly as drastic as the upheaval he was all but forcing upon his family. Rory was successfully working on the President's campaign. April was now a teenager, her life becoming engulfed in social obligations that come along with adolescence. Luke knew that Lorelai was confused, and undoubtedly hurt by his persistence in moving out to California, but it was something _he_ needed. His life with a Gilmore Girl was not an easy task, as a life with Lorelai typically meant it was hers that took precedence, but this time, it was his turn.

"It's hot here," Lorelai all but whined as they scouted the downtown area of the Stars Hollow reminiscent town of Charming. They had been here a few weeks already, settling into their new house, informing family back East of their address and other pertinent contact information. "and I know you know it's hot, but today is extra hot. Dante Inferno hot, Luke."

Luke knew she was trying to be a good sport. The pop-culture ridden complaint was her way of showing she was trying. It was a quirk he had gotten past years ago. "It's Northern California Lorelai. You know it could be hotter, right?" His head cocked to the side as he caught glimpse of the garage at the end of the street. In the same direction, but closer to them was a well-enough looking diner – the one he had purchased, opened, and staffed the same week they'd moved there. "Let's check in at the diner." His attention strayed from the car garage for now.

As his wife sat down at the table she had declared 'theirs' upon opening of the diner, Luke traveled behind the counter and into the kitchen to ensure things were running as smoothly here as they once did in Stars Hollow. One of his cooks informed him that he had successfully communicated with the Luke's in Stars Hollow, verifying that both locations were offering the same menu, etc. While Luke Danes no longer lived in Stars Hollow, there was no way he was going to sell his diner. It was simply what made him, him.

As if by fate, the door chimed once and a flock of Charming's well known Sons of Anarchy permeated the premises. Luke took a heavier breath than normal, making his way to its current president, Clay Morrow. He'd seen his face before in pictures at the bottom of his father's belongings. "Coffee," Luke offered, recognizing the hush that settled within the diner, the few people that left some cash and made their way out to the street. The Sons had a presence.

"Yeah," Clay croaked, his raspy voice claiming command of the establishment in an instant. He watched Luke, clad in his plaid flannel and backwards blue baseball cap as he poured rich, black coffee into the five or so cups belonging to the MC. "Out." Clay called to the remaining patrons, who obliged by leaving fares and tips. Lorelai stayed, knowing this was the reason Luke hauled them here. It was his history, and seemingly, his new purpose.

Clay's eyes focused on Lorelai, whose blue eyes met his in somewhat of an icy stare. "She's with me, and she'll stay," Luke dared to say, combating the President with a kind of tenacity he only exhibited on rare occasion. Lorelai shifted uncomfortably in her He knew what the significance of having an Old Lady meant to the men in his diner, and realized rather quickly that his point had been heard and accepted. His jaw clenched as he awaited Clay's next remark; Luke now assumed Clay Morrow knew who he was.

"Willy's boy," piped an unfamiliar voice, one with an accent, from a face Luke didn't recognize. His glare lingered on Clay's for a few moments longer before moving to that of the Scottish Son two men down from the President. "Ne'er though' his family would come back ou' West." He watched as this man with longer hair took a sip of Luke's brew. "No' bad." He then raised the cup nodding once, sharply, in approval. Silence lingered; Luke was unsure if he was to comment on this man's comment.

A younger man, with sandy hair and goatee to match, offered a half grin, one that bore his teeth. It was almost a snarl. "We heard news that William Danes' son was here. We knew it could only mean one thing." He leaned back, legs apart, fingers interlocked just above his belt buckle. That silence fell across them again, this time indicating the Sons of Anarchy all knew what their VP meant. Luke meant too, and he was relieved to be on the same page as them.

"My dad wasn't a member of your MC for long, but I heard stories and saw memories of his time with SAMCRO. It changed his life." Luke stood firm, coffee pot in hand. He could feel Lorelai grow tense as he made his initial proposal to be considered for the club. "He's been gone a long time, my dad, and I think it's finally time someone continued the legacy he left behind."

Luke watched as the younger, goateed man laughed gently. "You've been thinking over that for a long time haven't you?" His eyebrows popped as he leaned forward, taking his first sip of coffee since it had been poured. Luke returned the younger man's attitude, merely shrugging in response. Luke had noticed the Vice President patch on the right side of his chest. He'd pick his battles wisely with this one.

"Now Jax," Clay finally spoke up again, his voice gravelly, but firm. "Man's got a right to want to step in for his fallen father." Luke couldn't discern if Clay was being respectful or otherwise. His eyes didn't leave Luke, who continued to hold his ground as the men seemed to consider Luke's proposal, regardless of how rehearsed it sounded. "William was a good friend, one of the Original 9 – big shoes to fill, Luke."

The sound of a chair on tile was heard from behind Luke's position, then heels on tile seconds later. Lorelai appeared before the Sons of Anarchy, her presence at Luke's side obviously something she recognized as well. "My husband doesn't need me to speak for him, but I think I will anyway," Luke's jaw tightened again, but he remained silent, knowing her words would either win or lose his war. "There is no one more loyal, more determined than Luke Danes, and that stems from the values his father taught him." Each of the SAMCRO members had smirks, but not ones of amusement. They were impressed at Lorelai's tenacity. "There's no doubt in my mind that those lessons taught to Luke by William were values he took from your MC. You bring Luke in, and all he'll do is abide by your code, and make your club that much more of a brotherhood." She stopped, meeting each of the men's eyes relishing in the silence for another few moments before concluding her input, with an added severity in her voice. "And when I'm right, I'm _right_."

While Lorelai had been defending Luke's proposition to the men of SAMCRO, a guest had entered the establishment. Not a member of the MC, but a woman, older than Lorelai, probably by ten years or so. "Is this that fast talking _bitch_ from out East?" The woman came closer to them, her hand snaking down Clay's chest, resting atop his patches. "If you want your man to be part of this club, you need to let him speak for himself."

The men share an all but silent snicker, some making comments about this woman's inability to stay out of people's business, to which Lorelai smirked at. "Baby," Clay growled, grabbing his partner's hand on his chest "the man's got blood related back to SAMCRO, give him a break." Clay offered a playful wink to Lorelai, whose smirk immediately disappeared. She wasn't a huge fan of him. Lorelai appreciated all things unorthodox, but the life of a motorcycle gang wasn't exactly up her ally. "If you and your Old Lady came out here to join my MC because of your daddy's roots, I can respect that, but there are rules, son." Clay rises, and his brothers follow. "Our clubhouse is at the end of the street, I bet you've seen it." He inches closer to Luke, a mixture of whiskey, tobacco, and weed line his breath. A hand finds a plaid-covered shoulder, causing its owner to stagger lightly. "Why don't you come on by later tonight? See what this MC's all about."


End file.
